


Concussion

by Yosei



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, At least I tried, Boys Kissing, Concussions, Frottage, Frotting, Hand Jobs, Johnlocked - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Hand jobs, Mutual Masturbation, PWP Sort of, PWP without Porn, Tutoring, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2398130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yosei/pseuds/Yosei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John was playing a rugby game when he sustained a head injury, but today is the day he goes to tutor Sherlock on the apparently incomprehensible concept of planets going around the sun. When Sherlock returns from a quick experiment to find John almost passed out and he finds out it might be a concussion, he panics and tries to help, but when John actually loses consciousness... Sherlock has to find a way to wake him up! The chosen method turns out to be rather effective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Concussion

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't have a concussion or anything, but I did hit my head a while ago during a scrimmage outside of practice. That bleep hurt, but I'm okay and a fic was born, so yay~
> 
> Un-betaed madness!

John's head was being crushed, or at least that's what it felt like with the glorious migraine that crested and curled around his head in mimicry of a halo. The rugby scrimmage had gone well until one of his teammates had knocked his helmet off before giving him a nice kick to the back of the skull. It wasn't exactly on purpose, but John was definitely going to get him back for it the next time they played outside of practice. After he had taken a little while to catch his breath and bearings as well, as he could with the pain festering in his eyes, he showered and changed to head to Sherlock's.

It would have probably shocked the universe that someone as incredibly as intelligent as Sherlock Holmes would ever need help with something as elementary as school work. But it is the universe that he needs help with. The git just refuses to understand how the solar system works.

-+-+-+-

_“It isn't on Earth, which makes it irrelevant, so I deleted it. I don't need him.” the young boy with sharp features and luscious curls had said as he pointed at John when Mrs. Holmes had introduced the rugby player as his new tutor._

_“Sherlock.” Mrs. Holmes had started sternly “You used to love science class with all of its experiments, and now you're failing and about to get dropped from the class for lack of attendance! I will not have one of my boys be dropped from anything! Do you understand me, William Sherlock Scott Holmes?” and with that, John became Sherlock's new tutor after school, three days a week._

-+-+-+-

It had been a few months of insanity since then and the arse was still as stubborn as ever, learning slowly, but steadily. At least he doesn't forget everything as soon as John leaves anymore. It had been difficult getting used to... well... Sherlock, but John has learned to just go with the flow and keep the crazy genius from seriously hurting himself when he can. Now that John thought about it, it was good practice to avoid and weave through the hazards and go on small missions for Sherlock's cases with the line of work he might be going into. John let out a little huff of relief when he finally made it up the hill and the extra set of stairs to the Holmes' front door, he was still feeling pretty dizzy. He was about to knock, but then in a flurry, the door snapped open and an angry, wild-looking, sleep-deprived Sherlock whisked him inside.

“John! It's not working, I had everything set to the right increments and cleaned all of my viles for any left over chemicals three times, every time, but there is still something wrong with-”

“Sherlock!” John had put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him before the idiot could give himself some kind of ulcer. “Just calm down and explain it to me from the top, yeah?” John smiled, but it was really just a quirk of his lips when he felt how bony Sherlock's shoulder was under his fingers. The man's pale, cerulean eyes flicked over John before he huffed out a frustrated breath and explained as they walked to his room for their session. Of course, Sherlock had found his error before they even reached his door and by the time John had made it into the room, Sherlock had already run off in the adjoining room that was his lab (he had to convince him to move his bedroom out of his workspace for safety reasons.) Books were stacked in shelves around the room, a desk sat against the far wall in front of a window and bed was in the far corner of the room, so it was still the place he slept... or rather, with the neatness of the bed, slept sometimes. Maybe not at all. John really needed to have a talk with him about that, but right now he was glad to just be in a clean room. He sat down in one of the plush chairs at the desk and shook his head a bit, trying to clear the fuzziness that crept around his vision. The pounding in his head had dulled a bit, but standing still took a good bit of effort and trying to stand and decipher Sherlock at the same time would probably kill him at this point. He pinched the bridge of his nose and hoped that he wouldn't feel anymore sick than he already did or he'd have to cut the tutoring session short and for whatever ridiculously unsafe reason, he really didn't want to leave the genius so soon. When Sherlock returns with a shit-eating, victorious grin, its to John hunched over in his chair, bobbing slightly and almost asleep.

“John?” Sherlock places a tentative hand between his shoulder blades as he tries to get a look at John's face. John hums at the touch and musters up enough energy to turn his head and be pierced by those all-seeing eyes. “Responsive. Pupils not dilated, but unfocused, so not drugs. Fatigue? Never like this. Tell me, John, are you feeling ill?”

“Sherlock, I'm fine. Just got a blow to the head during a scrimmage, nothing to worry about-”

“Wrong! John, you could very well have a concussion.” He started babbling as he unceremoniously started examining John's head more closely. When John groaned and cursed at the pain of having the back of his head touched, Sherlock pretty much let out a decidedly fretful sound. “Don't go to sleep, if you do you might die. I'm going to get some ice and pain medication, before I run some tests.” And with that, Sherlock disappeared out the doorway. John sighed and just barely resisted the urge to smack his heavy skull onto the desk. He just felt so exhausted and if he listened hard enough, he could hear his blood swelling to throb at the back of his head. John figured he could do what Sherlock said, but he could also do that with his sore cranium pillowed on the desk on top of his folded arms. If his eyes were just closed and he stayed awake, that was fine, right?

Sherlock returned from his mad dash across the house to see John unconscious and breathing slowly. Was his breathing slower than usual? Was he getting pale? Sherlock's mind built a million scenarios and he crashed to his knees next to John's chair and shook the tutor to try and wake him.

“John? John, come on wake up. I told you not to go to sleep!” Sherlock's internal panic seemed to rise even higher when he spotted the few drops of blood on John's shirt collar. The last month passed through Sherlock's mind in a whirl of images. John first making an appearance in his life and calling him brilliant instead of freak. John taking an actual interest in his experiments and becoming Sherlock's very own conductor of light when he hit a wall in a frustrating case. John genuinely caring about not just Sherlock's health, but also his general happiness and... was he about to lose all of that? Before he could really comprehend what he was doing, he was pressing his lips to John's in a soft kiss. John's eyes fluttered at the yelling Sherlock had been doing, but the exhaustion seemed to be like a weight tied to him that kept him from moving. He felt himself drifting off, but then a soft pressure was applied to his mouth and when his eyes fluttered again, it was to catch a glimpse of how beautiful Sherlock's long eyelashes were up close. Up close... the pressure... Sherlock was kissing him! John's eyes shot open when the Sherlock pulled away, looking frightened and shocked with himself. “I-” It seemed as though he was going to try to explain himself, maybe even deem himself hate-worthy like he usually did when he did something he thought John might not like. John stopped him by grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into another sweet and gentle kiss. John had never really given going out with blokes a try, but he did find himself attracted physically and emotionally as well as with women. With the way that he felt with his lips on Sherlock's plush and ridiculously gorgeous pink mouth, John couldn't decipher why he hadn't realized he could have liked Sherlock this way all along. He let his fingers slide into the messy dark curls as he pulled away to look into bluish-gray eyes that reminded him of a cloudy day in London. 

“Sherlock.” he sighed contently when Sherlock tilted into his touch. “How long have you... been feeling this way?” Sherlock made sure there was absolutely no eye contact when he said:

“It has been accumulating since the first day I met a man named John Watson, who called me brilliant and cared about what happened to me. The same John Watson who saved me from some major chemical burns and brutalized a mentally-unstable dealer that would have punctured my spleen had he gotten the chance.” John snorted and smiled at his own possible insanity when he remembered tackling and fighting the school's drug-dealer, almost getting stabbed and arrested himself for the state he left the dealer in. John now realized that he had been subconsciously protective over Sherlock when it came to the mysteries that he had gotten himself tangled up in and he felt that it really was his place to help unravel the detective from the mess. To keep him right. “I don't want you to leave, John.” 

“I'm not going anywhere.” John promised as he smiled at the amount of dreaded sentiment that Sherlock was allowing himself, but it was disrupted by a yawn. “Although, I think you might have to do something to keep me awake. I'm bloody exhau-” Sherlock practically jumped on him, kissing and licking at his lips intently as he straddled his lap. John let out a giddy laugh into the kiss before opening his mouth to Sherlock's exploring tongue. The genius was surprisingly good at this, considering that John hadn't seen Sherlock show real interest in the human species at all since meeting him. 

“I researched as soon as I ascertained my attraction...” Sherlock sheepishly admitted, reading John's mind as usual, and then kissed the corner of John's mouth and then littered his face with them until John was laughing and smiling, just because he could. As their sheepish pecking turned into full on snogging and groping, the chair tipped over and Sherlock rolled them to take the blunt of the fall on his back, legs crossed behind John's back to keep him close. John thought to thank him, but decided to do it physically instead, biting at Sherlock's plump lips and barely holding back a groan at the lovely little whining sounds that followed. 

“Shit, Sherlock.” John was amazed seeing Sherlock under him, panting with spit-slick, reddened lips and cheeks, his eyes hazy and lusting. John wanted to etch the image into every surface in his mind, but other more pressing matters needed to be attended to. Such as John's aching hard-on and the answering bulge nudging against his thigh. “Sherlock, do you... can we-”

“Oh for goodness sake, John, get on with it.” Sherlock growled as he palmed John through his jeans, John finally getting with the program and feeling Sherlock's length through his tailored trousers, making them both shiver. John kissed at the expanse of soft skin of Sherlock's neck and made quick work of Sherlock's button and zip before sliding his hand into the tight pants to thumb at Sherlock's pre-cum leaking slit at the same moment that his other hand roamed the chest before him and pinched a pink nipple to hardness. “John.” Sherlock sighed and tried to keep from squirming at the burning feeling in his lower stomach, then he followed John's movements and stroked his deviously long fingers up and down the older boy's length. John grunted as his hips snapped forward and the heads of their erections slid against each other, making them both groan. John changed tactics, moving Sherlock's hand away and pressing their cocks together to fist them in a tighter grip, creating a delicious friction that had both of them moaning.

“Sherlock, God, you feel so good.” John bit his lip to ground himself. It felt like his mind was trying to damn near float off with how much electricity was crackling under his skin.

“John, John! I-” Sherlock panted as his hands gripped at John's shoulders to drag him as close as possible as he came, spilling over John's fist in hot spurts that dripped onto his stomach and chest. Seeing Sherlock orgasm while panting his name with that pretty mouth drove John over the edge as he kissed into Sherlock's mouth, licking and tasting as he came, adding to the mess on Sherlock. John leaned over the genius, panting and kissing into the nape of his neck. Sherlock's hands were flitting around John's back anxiously and John leaned up to smile at his worried expression.

“I'm fine, Lock. Actually, I feel perfect.” John said as he kissed Sherlock's swollen lips.

“You are perfect.” Sherlock mumbles, a blush on his cheeks, but no other implication that he said anything at all. John's grin widens as he rolls to his side on the carpet and pulls Sherlock against him. “Don't you dare go to sleep, John Watson. We still have some time to kill before it is safe.”

“Alright then, we should probably clean up and do a few more things to pass the time right?” John kissed Sherlock's hair and then pulled back to glare at him, but a smile broke his serious expression. “But don't go thinking that all this will get you out of an extra session on the rest of the planets.”

“Fuck.”


End file.
